Contrast
by elitemassacre6
Summary: Santana hasn't been human, or, for that matter, alive for ten months. When she's forced to tell Rachel, she doesn't see the fear or cold-shoulder she expected. Takes place post graduation and about one month before both girls move to New York
1. Fire and Ice

It takes Santana by surprise, the way the predator in her seems to magnify the things she feels, wants, craves, desires. Like something took a microscope to her heart and found every little thing she held in her icy grasp and brought it out into burning, blinding light.

These circumstances continue to show themselves in ways miniscule and overwhelming and it's always so disconcerting to her how many of these things center themselves around Rachel Berry. She craves those stupid I'm Sorry cookies that she can't even eat anymore, desires a taste of that perfectly smooth tan skin. Wants to be closer, always closer.

Often, the beautiful girl for whom she feels too much gives her that single wish. Lets her close. Moments like the one happening now. At another infantile party they were both invited to but would rather not be at. So in their own way, they distance themselves from all but each other, warm and near cold skin pressed together as they dance, each grasping, pulling closer, wanting more.

But nothing is ever so easy for her. So easy as wanting and getting. The difference between Rachel's fire and her ice continues to remind her of that. Her queen of warmth moves ever closer, placing those perfect lips to the corner of Santana's own and once again exposing that long and elegant neck. For the fifth time that night, she fights her desire and for now, wins.

"I think maybe we should get out of here, Rachel. Are you...are you hungry?" Of their own accord, her hands run up the stars toned and sleek back, massaging randomly as they ascend. It calms her more than the other way around, she thinks. She brings her hands back down when Rachel turns around, putting them back to front. The issue of normal food and her habit of not being seen eating it or often being heard expelling it from her body afterward is a sore topic. Rachel nods; still barely dancing, a slow, repetitious and deliberate roll of her hips against Santana's sensitive body.

Quietly, they flee the sweat-stenched household and slide into Santana's fire orange Camaro...Rachel with some assistance. She barely had three drinks, but with how rare an occasion it is, it's obvious why she's a bit intoxicated. Naturally, their hands slip together into a union of warm and cold and then suddenly at a stop sign on an empty neighborhood intersection, Rachel has her both her hands wrapped around Santana's own, breathing hot air onto it and rubbing softly.

"It is a little chilly for a summer night isn't it? Don't worry, I'll warm you right up." She wants to speak those three words, let them fall from her lips and hope her life doesn't fall apart completely. Both sets.

"Thank you." Is all she can manage, voice hoarse with her arousal. She has to look away, and watching another light up the area down the street, pulls away. Rachel's hand is still there though, a barely there weight over her own on the gear shift.

When they finally reach Santana's now forever empty home, the vampire helps an unbalanced Rachel inside and sits her at the couch with Barbra on the tv and with the knowledge that the singer/actress is only hungry enough for a snack, disappears into the adjoining kitchen. She opens it, frowning at the wide array of vegan-only food before settling on fruit. While she's dropping halved strawberries and grapes into a bowl, her temptation saunters into the room and it's only now that she notices the music coming from the other room instead of the familiar lines to funny girl. Slim arms slide around her waist, the attached hands rising up her abs to circle round.

"Don't leave me in there, I'd rather be in here with you, San. Dance with me?" Rachel pops a strawberry in her mouth, smiling slyly as she chews and swallows. She offers a grape to Santana who shakes her head. Rachel frowns, looking thoroughly worried and disappointed.

"Do you know that I don't even remember the last time I saw you eat...anything. I'm so worried about you, Tana. You said you don't want to talk about that, and I love you, so for now, I'll respect it, but...eat it. I need to see you eat something, please." Santana grimaces, already anticipating the discussion they'll have to get into when she pukes up the grape and the half-pint's worth of blood she had before she picked her best friend up for that stupid party. But, gulping, she takes the offending object and chews it, swallowing as her stomach protests. The impulse comes immediately and she's fleeing towards the half bath at the base of the stairs. It all comes out of her in two heaves, the blood staining the inside of the bowl a watery red. She dry heaves thrice more, Rachel's heels clicking against the slate tiles.

"T-Tana...what...all the blood! God, are you okay?! I shouldn't have done that...tell me you're ok." Haphazardly wiping her mouth with paper towel, she grimaces again, distraught eyes locking with those brown-red eyes, hating the fear reflected back at her. She backs up, shirt against the wall.

"I'm...I'm fine. It's not mine." She chokes out, watching as the confusion takes over for the fear in those eyes.

"What do you mean? How could it not be yours? It...it came out of your mouth, and there's so much of it." The need to cry and to feel her eyes be dry as normal feels so strange, and all she can do is shake her head and prepare to lose the only thing she cares about.

"Because I drink it. I have to...I have to drink it to survive, Rachel. I'm not...I'm not human anymore. Not since what happened. Since that fucking _monster_ turned me. It's why I don't eat. Why I can't eat. Why I'm always so cold, why I don't go out in the sun anymore. Why I always try to be so careful around you. I didn't tell you because I was so afraid of the tiny bit of life I had left disappearing like my ability to be _alive_ did. I didn't want to lose you..._I can't_ lose you. But god you look so afraid right now and just. I'm gonna leave...I won't come back...I'll never come back and-" Rachel walked closer, eyes closed against the blood splattered against the inside of the bowl of the toilet, she flushed it. Reaching up, she used a new paper towel to wipe neglected blood from a full top lip.

"Stop, Santana. Please stop talking. You're not going anywhere, okay? Just calm down. I'm not afraid of you, okay. It's been ten months since that...i guess not so accident happened to you and you've never once hurt me or even looked like you were contemplating it. I did kind of think you wanted to eat me earlier but I was thinking more in an erotic sense, so...anyway I'm ok with who you are and what you are. I wasn't expecting to ever hear this from you obviously...But I trust you and I'm so sorry for making you eat that grape. I just thought...I thought you were _starving yourself_ and I was so worried." Rachel hugged her close then pulled Santana through the latina's own home to her upstairs en suite to brush her teeth and wash out her mouth.

"Better?" Santana nodded and followed Rachel back down the stairs.

"Hungry again. I was going to wait until you went to sleep or got in the shower or something in a few hours. You eat your fruit and I'll just grab a bag." Rachel shook her head, following Santana into her garage and watching as she opened a door and then slid open the door to a odd looking refrigerator. Inside were what looked like eight or ten blood bags hanging on a rack. She pulled one out and pulled the regulator off of the IV line, sipping as she shut both doors. She turned around and when she caught Rachel's curious eyes watching her every move, looked away.

"Is this why you organize those blood-drives at the community center and at school? To keep your stock up?" The shorter brunette asked, watching as the dark red liquid rose up the tube and disappeared into Santana's mouth. She wondered if it tasted as metallic and sort of coppery as it did to her when she had to lick away the smallest dot of blood from an accidentally pricked finger.

"No. I get mine from a friend at the hospital. I organise those blood drives to make sure I'm not keeping them from saving people's lives. If you were wondering, you never see me at them because even though I make sure to keep myself fed, being exposed to so much open air blood is a temptation I make sure to keep myself away from. It was hard at first, keeping my instinct bound so tightly inside so I wouldn't hurt anyone. It's still hard sometimes, because I can smell it all the time when I'm around anyone. I have an especially hard time when you're close to me. Like there's everything I know I can't have...shouldn't want to have, all in one beautiful package."

"Do you need me to...I don't know, stay away or something? It would be extremely difficult, but if that's what you need, I can do it." Santana shook her head no and dropped her empty bag in the biohazard box. Immediately going for her mouthwash to rinse her mouth out so she could continue to know she wasn't freaking Rachel out. It made her a little sick to her stomach, but she ignored it.

"No. Please don't. Not that it's the only reason I need you so much but, you're the only person, the only anything I have left. I love you, Rae. And thank you for not like, breaking a chair leg and stabbing me in the chest with it. Being this...thing...sucks hardcore, but it would be worse to be not have you at all." Saying that first set of three words was easier than she thought it would be, but her conscience eats at her still. Switching the I for I'm and throwing in an 'in' and a 'with' won't be so easy. They walked back into the kitchen and Rachel proceeded to eat her bowl of fruit, no longer thinking about asking Santana to do the same.

"I'd never do that to you. I won't. Tana...How much of a problem is it for you when we dance together like we were?" Santana bit down on her lower lip, glad to notice her fangs had receded since she'd rinsed her mouth. She didn't want to scare her best friend away. She thought about her overwhelming arousal, the scent of Rachel and her quickly flowing blood filling her senses. The way it felt to have the shorter girl rubbing her gorgeous ass against her. The scent of Rachel's own arousal stealing her attention. admittedly, she never thought of biting her, but the more turned on she got, the more she wondered about how it would be between the two of them if they had sex. How she would probably allow herself a little bit off of the increasingly tight leash she kept herself on.

"It's...more difficult for me to keep my need for that body of yours under control. I never think about biting you, though your scent is...intoxicating. I can always tell how turned on you are, and it gets a little hard trying to keep myself from asking you if you just want to get naked with me. Sorry...you're just. Yea, it's a little difficult. Just a little bit." Rachel grinned at her a little sideways, nodding her head. She walked out of the room, switching the music to something with a slower tempo, Santana knew the playlist, a mix of Kimbra, Lykke Li, Austra, and some Frank Ocean.

"Ok then. Dance with me?" Santana nodded, gently pulling Rachel close, chest to chest, when the other girl tried to back into her again.

"No more of that...unless you're ready for something else entirely...and I don't think you are. I'm not trying to spend the night down here alone with my hand in my shorts." Rachel laughed mirthfully, pulling the two of them closer together and slowing down her movements just slightly. Santana groaned quietly when the dancing woman rolled into her again.

"Did you think I couldn't produce the same outcome from this position? You should know Santana, I'm extraordinarily skilled in the use of my body. All the years of dance, you know." Moaning as quietly as possible, Santana separated their bodies by another six inches or so, trying to calm her own.

"You should know that...that I was." Rachel raised an eyebrow with question.

"What do you mean?"

"Starving myself. Before this happened to me...And then I couldn't anymore. It was all about fucking cheerios...I thought If I followed Coach's old diet exactly then she'd have to keep me on top and I could get that stupid scholarship and get out of this fucking place. I'm eati-drinking normally now. Coach caught me and had me starting to get back to normal when I got turned...so I don't know...I guess that's why I don't look like a twig anymore." Rachel nodded, laying her head over Santana's still heart, closing her eyes.

"You look better. You should have come to me instead of making yourself sick like that. I could have gotten you started on a healthy vegan diet. Which, by the way, I had assumed you'd taken up by yourself given the fact that all the food here is vegan. It makes sense now...I guess it's all for me." The vampire nodded.

"Can I ask you something? About your implants? Because I was curious about that. When you were really sick and skinny I thought you'd had them removed because your breasts seemed quite a bit smaller, but now that I'm looking...not that I haven't been by the way, they seem quite large again." Santana breathed deep and spun them around slowly while Kimbra sang about Two Way Streets.

"Over the summer before junior year, coach figured out what her ridiculous diet was doing to us, how we were all, except Britt, who refused to follow it, making ourselves sick, killing ourselves. So she outlawed it. And by the time school started, we had all gotten back to our normal weight. So, basically, my boobs finally had the opportunity to grow...and they did. Quinn was...was dealing with some things, so when she saw the opportunity to get herself back on top, she lied to Sue, and told her I had gotten implants. I realized that I could help her...and maybe myself a little if I just lied too. So everyone thought she was right. And, too this day, coach loves to call me tits mcgee and other really uncreative shit. When I started to starve myself they shrunk and here they are again now that I'm...that I was healthy. No implants. End of story." Rachel nodded, laying her head back down on Santana's full breasts.

"I like them like this. Nice pillows. I meant to ask you what type of blood it is that you drink?" Santana reached down and grabbed another strawberry, feeding it to Rachel.

"AB...I know you're O- and I wanted to stay as far away from that as possible. I know you give blood as often as is safe and healthy and not only did I not want to develop a taste for O neg, but I also wanted to make sure I never got a bag of yours. Plus the hospital very rarely needs or uses AB...so It's good in those ways." Santana looked down at Rachel's closed eyes and slowly moving feet, squeezing the hand in her own.

"Hmm?" Santana smiled...god did she love her.

"Hey, gorgeous. I think it's bedtime for you. Where do you want to sleep, hmm?

"If I'm less handsy than usual can I still sleep with you? It's strange how much this natural chill of your skin makes me comfortable and sleepy. I promise I'll do my best to not put you in any tempting situations." Santana's laughter filled both their ears.

"Ha-yea right shorty. You and that body of yours are always putting me in tempting situations. But yes, you can sleep with me. Come On." Santana scooped down and picked her small best friend up, loving the melodious laugh that escaped from those lips as she ascended the stairs. Gently, she lay Rachel down in the bed and pulled off her heels, barely receiving any help from the wearer when she pulled the black dress over he head. She closed her eyes against the sight and overwhelming scent of Rachel's arousal, wishing her ability to smell hadn't been so ramped up with her turning. She handed Rachel new underwear with a shirt and shorts and disappeared into the bathroom, pulling her own set of tank top and shorts on. She looked into the mirror and frowned. She should have said no. When she walked out of the bathroom to find Rachel still pulling on her tank top she walked right past her and to her bed.

They had been up all night, and it was nearing dawn, so, thankfully, she didn't think they'd be up until around five. Pulling the sheets back, she slid in and watched as Rachel sauntered towards her, climbing in next to her and sliding their fingers together. She didn't back into Santana, not knowing for sure how much of a problem it might be for her to essentially have her mouth over her neck.

"Night, San. Love you" Their legs tangled together and both sets of eyes closed.

"I Love you too."

A/N: For all of five minutes, I considered having Rachel kill Santana in this fic. Have her pretend everything was fine, then stick a sharp stake through Santana's still heart. I thought about explaining it as something like Rachel and her family being hunter/slayers and though she loved her, doing what she had to. But that's not what I wanted from this. So here we go, first chapter. Hope you enjoyed.


	2. Water and Wood

She awakens, limbs tangled with those not her own, the now not only familiar, but understood coldness of her best friend's body tucked close to her. The memories, the knowledge...both lodged in her brain and Rachel finds it strange that she didn't have to take a few moments to remember her most recent memories like every other rising of her eighteen years. She stretches her arms, just now noticing the lack of piercing sunlight streaming through the dark curtains .

Although she would usually bemoan the total failure to get up and follow her routine, she lets it go and turns to the body next to hers, curling back into the cold, listening to the silence of the still heart below her well-trained ears. Santana's eyes open quickly, her first breath of the day sharp. Rachel can't help but wonder what that's like, waking up every day when you shouldn't be able to, when your old sense of normality and understanding of life and death dictate that you never will again. She's glad for the contradiction. For the chance to risk her heart again.

"Good evening." Santana looks over at her, smiling softly while Rachel herself yawns.

"Hey, shortstack. Sleep good? You hungry?" Rachel nods slowly, wiggling her toes and pulling the vampire closer.

"Yea. Slept really well. I am quite hungry, but can we just lay here for a little while and eat after?" Santana nods, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. They lay there, close and content, for close to an hour. Rachel is teetering on the edge of sleep and wakefulness by the time Santana gets up, stretching, and then looking over.

"Hey, don't go back to sleep, time for breakfast." The performer frowns and groans before rolling out of bed, taking the first steps out of the room and down the steps.

"I wasn't going back to sleep, Tana. Resting my eyes." With the other girl following behind her, she descends the steps and flops herself down at a chair in the kitchen when she reaches it.

"You were. You know I can hear your heartbeat right? When it's slowing like that, beating at an even rhythm . And hear you breathing. You were falling asleep. If you really want, we can take a nap after we eat. What do you think you want, sleepyhead?"

"I wasn't aware you could hear that, no. Although I guess I should have been, since technically you're a predator now. Most predators have increased speed and senses. Hearing, smell, vision. I think I'll make a waffle. That sounds rather delicious now. You go ahead and drink and then maybe sit here with me for...well I suppose I can't logically call it breakfast...dinner maybe." Santana waits, gazing at clear, bright, eyes that belonged to her best friend.

"Does it scare you? What I am? Are you afraid of me, Rae?" Santana asks, more than bothered by the idea.

"Of course not Santana. Maybe if it was anyone else. But it's you, and I love you, I trust you." Rachel answered honestly, wrapping small arms around her best friend's tightly muscled torso.

"You sure? I couldn't...it would would break my heart if I thought you were afraid of me now. I would never hurt you, Rae. I will never hurt you. I'd kill myself before I did." The shorter girl huffed, leaning up to gently, and without any real thought about the consequences, press her lips against Santana's own.

"I'm positive, Tana. Now can we not talk about you dying...again? That, I am afraid of."

"Ok." Is spoken against her face, and Rachel watches as she retrieves the waffle iron and plugs it in before heading out the garage door. Alone in the kitchen, Rachel opens the refrigerator to retrieve her ingredients, pulling everything out and placing it on the dark marble countertop. She quickly mixes it up, smile bright and excited as she pours the batter into the hot iron. When she reaches for the bananas and vegan whipped cream, everything else already either washed or put away, Santana strides in through the door, hair piled messily on top of her head in a poor impersonation of a bun. Their eyes lock as she passes by with a smile, climbing up the stairs afterward.

When she returns, Rachel is at the table, just now adorning her waffle with vegan whipped cream. Santana sits down across from her, staring her whole grain and nut waffle with bananas.

"Hungry much there, Rae?" She nods, digging in.

"Do you ever miss food like this? waffles and chinese and pineapples? Stuff like that? I imagine I would." Santana nodded, leaning up to place a simple kiss on Rachel's forehead before sitting again.

"Yea. Those are your favorites, but I miss stuff. Popcorn, fries, your I'm sorry cookies. But overall it's not so bad. I'm alive, and I'm here with you." Rachel nodded, hopping up to wash her dishes once she afterwards.

"That is something for which I'm exceedingly grateful, Santana. Now, what's on the agenda for today?"

"I figured we need furniture...since none of the things here or at your dads' really fits into our style. We could head to Ethan Allen and pick some things out. Have the bedrooms, living room and office halfway done." Rachel nodded, gently pretending to play out the notes to a song Santana didn't know on the imaginary piano that was the surface of the island.

"I hope you don't honestly expect me to sleep in my bed when we move in, Santana. At least not for a week or so." Santana shook her head, smiling softly.

"I don't really expect you sleep in it all the time, but I know you, you need your own space, a safe zone. Anyway, still tired?" Rachel nodded her head, smiling when Santana lifted her bridal style and ascended the stairs like her one hundred and eighteen pounds was nonexistent.

"Will you tell me about something?" Rachel asked when they were both comfortable under Santana's dark duvet. She received a nod and closed her eyes, running the bumps of her knuckles over the tanner skin of the latina's abdomen.

"Do you remember, right after what happened to you...when you tried coming back to everything but it was overwhelming and you shut me out? You disappeared for days at a time, and then you would come back and try to stay...but you'd always leave again when ever we got too close...what was going on with that?" Santana sighed, wrapping her left arm tighter around the constantly warm Rachel.

"I was afraid of what I was. What I could do. What I _would_ do. We were so close before that, you know...and I didn't know how strong the instinct would be when I was close to you so I decided I wouldn't ever test that. I was going to leave and not come back...But everytime I tried, every time I went to leave this place I thought about you and how it would hurt you, and how much hurting you always makes me feel like the peice of shit everyone else thinks I am. After a while, I realized that the further away from you I ran, the more alone I felt...The more I realized that you would never leave like that- never just fucking abandon me." Rachel shook her head, warm and content.

"Of course not. It know that no matter how close we are, it may feel like you're alone, but you aren't. We're in this together, and if I have it my way, it will always be that way."


End file.
